FOREIGN SPEECH.

Ah, do not tell me what they mean,

The tremulous brook, the scarcely stirred

June leaves, the hum of things unseen,

This sovran bird.

Do they say things so deep, and rare,
And perfect? I can only tell

That they are happy, and can bear

Such ignorance well;

Feeding on all things said and sung

From hour to hour in this high wood,

Articulate in a strange, sweet tongue

Not understood.

H

IN THE TWILIGHT.

A noise of swarming thoughts,

A muster of dim cares, a foil'd intent,

With plots and plans, and counterplans and plots;

And thus along the city's edges gray

Unmindful of the darkening autumn day

With a droop'd head I went.

My face rose,-through what spell?—

Not hoping anything from twilight dumb:

One star possessed her heaven. Oh! all grew well

Because of thee, and thy serene estate:

THE INNER LIFE.

I. A DISCIPLE.

Master, they argued fast concerning Thee,
Proved what Thou art, denied what Thou art not,
Till brows were on the fret, and eyes grew hot,
And lip and chin were thrust out eagerly;

Then through the temple-door I slipped to free
My soul from secret ache in solitude,

And sought this brook, and by the brookside stood
The world's Light, and the Light and Life of me.
It is enough, O Master, speak no word!

The stream speaks, and the endurance of the sky
Outpasses speech: I seek not to discern

Even what smiles for me Thy lips have stirred;
Only in Thy hand still let my hand lie,

And let the musing soul within me burn.

* H

II. THEISTS.

Who needs God most? That man whose pulses

play

With fullest life-blood; he whose foot dare climb
To Joy's high limit, solitude sublime

Under a sky whose splendour sure must slay
If Godless; he who owns the sovereign sway
Of that small inner voice and still, what time
His whole life urges toward one blissful crime,
And Hell confuses Heaven, and night, the day.
It is he whose faithfulness of love puts by
Time's anodyne, and that gross palliative,
A Stoic pride, and bears all humanly;
He whose soul grows one long desire to give
Measureless gifts; ah! let him quickly die
Unless he lift frail hands to God and live.

III. SEEKING GOD.

I said "I will find God," and forth I went

To seek Him in the clearness of the sky,
But over me stood unendurably

Only a pitiless, sapphire firmament

Ringing the world,—blank splendour; yet intent Still to find God, "I will go seek," said I, "His way upon the waters," and drew nigh

An ocean marge weed-strewn, and foam-besprent ; And the waves dashed on idle sand and stone,

And very vacant was the long, blue sea;

But in the evening as I sat alone,

My window open to the vanishing day,

Dear God! I could not choose but kneel and pray,

And it sufficed that I was found of Thee.